


Golden Age

by supercalvin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Golden Age of Camelot, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 04:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalvin/pseuds/supercalvin
Summary: The man in front of him looked similar to Arthur’s manservant, but he could not possibly have been Merlin.





	Golden Age

**Author's Note:**

> This fic occurs right between the Series 3 finale and the opening of Series 4. It’s not really canon-compliant, but it could have happened. Maybe. Well that’s fanfiction for ya.

 

Arthur was silent. This meant that he was especially angry with Merlin. Usually when he was cross, he let his feelings be known. Loudly. With much fervor. But now, Arthur was grinding his teeth and adamantly ignoring Merlin. Therefore, he was at an exceptional level of anger. This would not have been much of a problem, but the prince and manservant were deep in a cave without any light. They had tried lighting a torch on several occasions but each time the caves had produced an unnaturally strong wind that doused it in a second. Without any sight or communication, Merlin feared they would lose each other in the winding passage ways.

“So…” Merlin coughed awkwardly, “You know where we are going?”

The only indication that Arthur was still ahead of Merlin, was the sound of his boots against the stone ground.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” Merlin said. “It’s just that the Caves of Enrepsid are infamously known for people getting lost inside and never coming back out.”

Merlin heard Arthur stop, the scruff of a boot briskly turning on its heel. But the prince still didn’t say anything.

“I can’t see your face, are you doing making that face?”

More silence. Then Merlin felt a hand smack the back of his head.

“Ow!” Merlin yelped.

“No one wants to hear your yammering, Merlin. So shut up.” The first words Arthur had said the torch had been extinguished.

“It’s just that if we want to break the curse, you need to find the crystal that the sorceress used and I’m not sure we are going the right way.”

No response.

“Gaius said that the sorceress would have created a trail for herself so that she may enter and leave the Caves…and I haven’t seen anything.” Merlin said, hoping Arthur would explain his plan. He did not.

 “Erm…Arthur?”

“I told you to stay in the citadel.” Arthur snapped, finally. “Do you ever obey orders, Merlin?”

“Sometimes” Merlin commented thoughtfully.

Arthur spoke as if to a small child, “If the chance of one person getting  lost in the Caves of Enrepsid is one hundred to one, then tell me, _Merlin_ , why bringing you along would make our chances any better?”

“We can navigate them together!” Merlin smiled, although Arthur wouldn’t see it. Probably for the better. “If one gets disoriented than maybe the other can help.”

“Or we would both think we were going the right way, and argue about it until I knock you out and drag you my way.” Arthur sounded far too convinced this was what would happen. He was probably right.

“Now that is just refusing to work in a team.” Merlin rolled his eyes, even if Arthur couldn’t see him do it. Or perhaps he did it because he knew Arthur couldn’t see him do it. 

Arthur said, “These tunnels were carved with magic, with the intention of confusing people into losing their way. It is malicious sorcery that I don’t think we could circumnavigate with a little _team work_.”

“Right” Merlin bit his lip. “Of course, sire.”

Merlin kicked his boot against the cave, hearing a few rocks skid across the stone.

“There’s something up ahead.” Arthur said and Merlin could hear him touching along the walls of the cave. “It’s a fork. There are two passageways.”

Merlin closed his eyes and tried to feel with his magic, to see the path ahead. To his right he felt what he had been feeling in the cave all along: a subtle hum of magic energy. To the left it seemed blank to Merlin’s senses, which had never happened before. He tried again, but still there was nothing open to his senses.

“I think we should go to the left.” Arthur said.

Merlin groaned internally, why did Arthur always have to do the opposite of what Merlin wanted?

“Er, maybe we should go right?” Merlin suggested, hoping it would work.

“Does it matter? The sorceress obviously didn’t leave any clues for herself, so we might as well just pick a side and walk.”

“But… I have a bad feeling about going left. There’s…a draft!”

“Merlin, it’s a cave. All of it is drafty.”

“But-“

“I don’t want to hear it, Merlin.” Arthur said, and immediately walked into the left passageway.

As soon as he crossed into the cave’s tunnel, the cave began to rumble. It started low in the ground, vibrating through Merlin’s boots all the way up his spine. Then Merlin heard the ceiling above him crack. Bits of the cave began to fall, first pebbles hitting the stone floor and then more and more rocks crashed down.

“Arthur!”

“Merlin! Get down!”

There was an eruption of sound and then a huge blast of air hit Merlin as the cave tunnel collapsed. Merlin shielded himself from the wave of debris and coughed harshly when the dust surrounded him.

“Arthur?” Merlin could barely head his own voice, his ears ringing with the sound of the cave’s collapse.

“Arthur!” Merlin shouted again, but there was no response.

***

Arthur woke with the worst headache he had ever had in his life, which included the time when he was fourteen and some of the knights had introduced him to ale for the first time. He took in a deep breath, slowly cataloging his arms and legs for any injuries. He was sore, and his head felt like hell, but otherwise he seemed fine. He groaned a little as he lifted himself up and looked around.

He was still in the caves, but it was suspiciously quiet.

“Merlin?”

Nothing, not even the sound of shuffling or a huff of breath.

“Merlin?”

Arthur stood up, holding a hand to his head. He touched the cave walls, trying to see what had happened. There were stone walls surrounding him, but there did not seem to be any debris, which was odd. He would have to count the strange collapse as part of the cave’s magic. He had to hope Merlin was nearby and uninjured.

Feeling his way along the side of the cave wall, Arthur started to make his way further into the cave. Either his eyes had finally begun to adjust to the darkness or there was some kind of light in this tunnel because Arthur could see the entrance to a large cavern. The room, if one was to call it that, had tall ceilings that reached higher than Arthur could see. Unlike the other tunnels, this room had a burst of light coming from one end.

“Merlin!” Arthur called, hoping his manservant would answer. With still no answer, Arthur was beginning to worry that Merlin had gotten more lost than he. Arthur decided that the best way to help Merlin would be to get out of the caves first and then find Merlin afterwards, so he headed toward the light. He trekked up the stone, climbing over boulders and rocks until he came across what appeared to be a set of stairs carved into the wall. It was odd to see stairs inside a cave but Arthur figured it meant he was getting close. At the top of the stairs he discovered a large platform and an entryway made of stone which led to more stairs, this time looking like stone that had been placed there instead of carved into the side of the cave.

He seemed to be entering some kind of fortified series of rooms inside the cave, which looked oddly familiar.

When Arthur arrived at the top of the stairs, he pulled his sword with surprise.

It should not have been possible. He was miles away from Camelot’s citadel. There was no conceivable way he was inside the walls. Or that he was in the corridor that led to the dungeons, deep inside the castle itself.

Moving cautiously, Arthur kept walking until he came along the passage that led to Gaius’ chambers. He sheathed his sword and hurried to the physician’s chambers, in the hopes that Gaius could explain what had happened to him.

When Arthur arrived, Gaius’ chambers were completely empty. There was not even a single sign of the people who had been taken ill with the sorceress’ curse. Only that morning there had been three people lying in cots as Gaius attended to them. That was where Arthur had been told how to lift the curse and start his quest to the Caves of Enrepsid.

As Arthur gave the rooms a closer look, they looked far more different than he remembered. Messier, if that was even possible. It was as if everything in the room was just a little off. It was unsettling.

Pushing these thoughts aside, Arthur continued on. If Gaius was away from his chambers, than perhaps he was with the King. Ever since Morgana’s betrayal, his father’s health and mind had declined. As his father refused to leave his rooms, Gaius had taken to checking on him daily.

Arthur rushed down the corridors towards his father’s chambers, surprised when the servants that he passed didn’t acknowledge him, not even a slight bow of the head. But he did not have time to think about it. When he finally made it to the King’s chambers, he did not bother with propriety. He knocked on the door, quickly announcing his arrival, and then entered. What he was greeted with shocked him. His father’s chambers appeared to have transformed overnight. The currents were wide open, letting in air and light. The bed draping was bright red instead of his father’s usual dark hues. Where there had previously been an open space in front of a fire, there was a dining table with an array of half-eaten food.

 “Arthur! What are you doing here? I thought you were training the new knights?”

Arthur was about to exclaim with joy that Merlin had made it out of the Caves and then ask him what the hell he was talking about. But when Arthur’s eyes settled on the man who had spoken, by the King’s desk on the far end of the room, it was not Merlin who greeted him.

The man in front of him looked similar to Arthur’s manservant, but he could not possibly have been Merlin.  The man was still tall and thin with midnight hair and pale skin, but now his hair was longer, curling around his temples and ears. He had a faint scar along his face, a wound which usually meant he had barely managed to avoid a blade. Although he still had his red neckerchief, it was the only recognizable piece of clothing on him. The man wore long black robes which had slits up to his hips on both sides, allowing for his legs to move freely, in a similar in style to Arthur’s tournament tunics. The robes were cinched at the waist with a belt, which appeared to have a weapon strapped to it. His boots were the same as Merlin’s, but somehow they looked different when donned by this man.

Before Arthur could even begin to process what was before him, he head himself say: “ _What the hell are you wearing?_ ”

“Oh. You are not Arthur.” Merlin’s eyes widened, which surprisingly calmed Arthur, because it was one of his normal daft expression.

That was when Merlin threw a dagger at him.

Arthur did not have time to move. One second Merlin’s hand was going to his belt and the next a dagger was at his throat, floating by Arthur’s jugular. Merlin’s eyes were gold and his hand was stretched forward.

Sorcery, Arthur thought. Within a second Arthur’s hand went to his sword but the imposter stopped him with a quick flick of his wrist. Arthur’s hands were pinned to his sides like ropes had bound him. Arthur gasped in surprise, trying to struggle out of the magical bonds. He looked to the man, who must have been a magical hallucination or perhaps a sorcerer’s disguise. “Who are you? What kind of game are you playing?”

The sorcerer with Merlin’s face walked forward. His gait was sure and steady, a far contrast to the Merlin that Arthur knew. He cocked his head at Arthur, “I think I will be asking the questions, since I have the upper hand, hm?”

Arthur ignored him, “What are you doing in the King’s chambers? What have you done with Merlin?”

The man’s brow lowered over his eyes. He paused for a long time, looking over Arthur’s face before he simply asked: “ _Who are you?_ ”

“Are you mad or just stupid? I’m the Prince of Camelot.” Arthur could not help the way his voice leapt up higher. This was all madness. One moment he had been in a cave and then next, he was faced with a sorcerer who looked like Merlin.

“You are one of the most foolish assassins I have ever seen. If you are meant to kill the King, you should know better than to mock me of all people.” The man said with a laugh, as if Arthur never posed any threat.

“ _Foolish_?” Arthur spluttered. “ _You_ are the one threatening the Prince of Camelot with sorcery in the heart of Camelot!”

This did not seem to intimidate the sorcerer. He only stared at Arthur more, his eyes flicking over Arthur like he was analyzing him inside and out. It was unnerving to see Merlin’s earnest expression in front of him, but knowing it was not Merlin at all. He wondered if the sorcerer had used Merlin’s figure to specifically mock Arthur, or if the man had chosen a servant at random in order to sneak into the citadel.

The man pulled something off Arthur’s belt, which he had little choice in the matter since he was still held tightly by the magic. When Arthur looked down, he saw his dagger being inspected. The man examined it closely, flipping it over to look at the carvings along the handle. Then he grabbed the dagger that was still floating at Arthur’s throat and put them side by side. The daggers were identical. It should have been impossible, since Arthur’s own dagger had been specially commissioned for him only a year earlier.

“This isn’t making any sense…” The man said with a pinched brow.

Arthur gave his best condescending glare, “Yes, I am glad we cleared that up.”

“If this is mimic spell, it’s a poor one.” The man cocked his head slightly, looking far too much like Merlin for Arthur’s taste.

“I am not a spell!”  Arthur snapped.

“It’s like they mimicked the wrong …Oh.” The man grabbed Arthur by the face and turned it to one side and then the other. With his hands still pinned to his sides, Arthur had to endure the handling, though he glared fiercely.

“I should not have to prove that I am the Prince of Camelot.” Arthur said once the man let go. “I have come from my quest on the Caves of Enrepsid. What have you done with the King?”

The man’s eyes- Merlin’s eyes- widened with realization. “I knew something had gone wrong that day!” He sheathed his dagger and with a flick of his wrist, Arthur was unbound.

The man held out the dagger to Arthur, handle towards Arthur and the blade towards himself. The blind trust, or perhaps naiveté, in that action was horrifyingly concerning. But it was enough to cast doubt in Arthur’s mind that perhaps this was not a sorcerer, but Merlin.

“You hae just committed sorcery, a crime punishable by death and you hand me a dagger?” Arthur said. “Do you think that because you take on the face of my manservant that I will not hurt you?”

The man hesitated. Perhaps he only now realized his action.

“Would you?” He enquired.

Arthur clenched his jaw. He hated to think he had such a simple weakness, but his blood was already turning cold with the thought of seeing his trusted friend in pain, even if it was only an illusion of sorcery.

Arthur took the dagger but chose to sheath it instead of wielding it.

“Explain yourself.” Arthur said. “I will not give you another chance.”

The man laughed, “Fair enough.” He took a deep breath and said, “If my gut feeling is correct, which it usually is, I think the Caves’ magic have somehow moved you forward in time. You believe it is the thirtieth year of Uther’s reign, correct?” He did not wait for Arthur to answer with ‘Of course it is!’ and continued: “But it’s not.”

“That’s absurd.” Arthur said, “What year do you think it is?”

“It is the eleventh year of King Arthur’s reign.”

“King Ar…” Arthur blanched, unable to say the title on his own lips.

 “It’s alright” Merlin rested a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, “We will figure this out-”

Arthur pushed his hand off, “Why should I believe you? You just threatened me! With sorcery no less!”

“Arthur, please calm down-”

Arthur put a hand on his sword. “This cannot possible be a future year. If it were, the last person to pull a dagger on someone would be _Merlin_. Nor would he ever learn sorcery!”

The man backed away. He appeared to swallow and take in a breath, before he said, “Whether you believe me or not, you know that you are not in the right place. You are supposed to be in the Caves of Enrepsid. You know that you are supposed to lift the curse and you cannot do that if you are here. Let me help you.”

“How can I be sure you are not the sorceress’ accomplice?” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

The man turned to the door, looking over his shoulder, “I suppose you can’t. You will just have to trust me.” Then he walked out the door, expecting Arthur to follow him.

It was such a _Merlin_ thing to say.

Arthur followed.

***

As Arthur walked alongside the man, he speculated whether or not he was in fact Merlin, albeit many years in the future. If he was, Arthur wondered how his fool of a manservant had turned into this confident man, dressed in robes of finery. He certainly looked and talked like Merlin, but Arthur’s mind was screaming with all the things that felt wrong.

With a quick glance at the man at his side, Arthur saw that this Merlin did not look different from his own manservant because of his clothing, but because he looked older. More mature than Arthur could have imagined Merlin to ever look. Merlin’s shoulders were wider and his body filled out with muscle. There was stubble on his chin and crow’s feet at his eyes. He walked with a straight and proud posture which spoke of years of experience.

When they entered the physician’s chambers, Merlin said, “Tell me everything that happened.” The way he said it did not give Arthur much room to argue. Arthur told him everything from the curse, to Gaius’ instructions, to the cave collapse, and finally waking up in a cave under the citadel.

Merlin stood and reached for a book on the other workbench.

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked.

Merlin flipped through the book quickly, obviously searching for a certain page. “Looking for something to explain why this happened.” He seemed to know his way around the piles of books because he flipped through them like mad. He did not even look up as he picked up one book and set down another.

“Where’s Gaius? Wouldn’t he know?”

Merlin froze for a split second before he continued reading.

“He passed away last year.” Merlin said softly. “He lived a very long life. He even had a few years of much deserved retirement.”

Arthur’s heart sank in his chest. “Oh.” Arthur felt heartbroken, and more shaken than he liked to admit.

“I know you do not believe me,” Merlin said, “But if you are _Prince_ Arthur then I’m not sure I should be telling you this. There is a chance you could alter the chain of events when you return to your own time.”

Arthur frowned, wondering how seeing this warped future would impact him at all. This man might be Merlin in over a decade’s time. But Arthur still could not believe it entirely. Merlin was different than Arthur would have expected…especially…

Arthur voiced what has been keeping him from truly believing this man was Merlin, “If you are Merlin, then you have learned magic.”

Merlin stopped reading the book in front of him. He looked up at Arthur and then back down without comment.

“You have nothign to say for yourself?” Arthur asked. “The Merlin I know would never learn magic. Not after seeing the way it corrupted Morgana.”

Merlin flinched, but it grabbed his attention. “Some things are not as simple as we would like them to be.”

“That’s a vague answer.” Arthur said. “Makes me think you are avoiding the question.”

The man raised his head, eyes looking straight into Arthur’s.

“There are things you have told me that no one else has ever known. You once told me that becoming King terrified you. I think you must have been about this age, when Uther’s health declined and you began to be King in all but name. You told me you were less afraid of ‘a hundred enemies with swords than becoming King.’”

As the words came from Merlin’s lips, Arthur felt himself grow pale as a ghost. It was not just that Merlin had said exactly how Arthur felt, but the exact conversation with his manservant had only happened a fortnight before. It was still bright in Arthur’s mind.

“What did you say to me?” Arthur asked, not truly looking at the older man in front of him, but thinking of the skinny boy whose hair was too short and his smile too mischievous.

“If I remember correctly, I said something along the lines of: ‘You are already King.’”

Arthur closed his eyes, letting those words sink over him for the second time. “You truly are him?”

“I was him once.” Merlin said with a deep sigh. “I’m afraid I have changed. Age has jaded me.”

“Over a decade, Merlin…” Arthur shook his mind of the young boy and looked up to the older man. Arthur was suddenly aware of the age in Merlin’s eyes. There were years of pain and years of endurance in his gaze, something that Arthur had never seen in his young manservant.

“It might as well be a century for how much I recognize you.” Arthur said.

Merlin’s lips thinned. If anything, he looked guilty.

“You began to study sorcery?” Arthur’s voice stayed steady, though it was a near thing. “How could you think that was a wise decision?”

Merlin sighed, “Much will change in the upcoming years, Arthur.”

“Magic could not have changed in only a few years.”

“Magic is not what you think it is. It is neither good nor evil.” Merlin said as if repeating an old phrase. “It is a tool, wielded by good or evil men.”

Arthur had nothing to say to that. He knew that was what the Druids believed, but he had never heard it voiced so vehemently.

“Do you practice magic openly?”

Merlin hesitated, and in that moment’s hesitation, Arthur knew what he was going to say.

“Magic is no longer banned in Camelot.”

Arthur’s gut tightened. “My father would never lift the ban.”

“No.” Merlin’s eyes bored into his own. “He would not.”

Merlin had said barely anything at all, but he had said enough.

When Arthur would become King, he would lift the ban. He would be the one to allow sorcerers into the citadel. His closest and most trusted friend would become a sorcerer.

Arthur could not even begin to understand this twisted place.

***

They spent over an hour looking through books. A number of them were magical. Arthur was not able to read most of them, since they were mostly written in the language of the Old Religion, but Merlin seemed to know the language inside and out.

As the sun lowered and its rays began to stream into Gaius’ chambers, or perhaps they were now Merlin’s chambers, Merlin closed another large tome.

“I have almost forgotten. I have a meeting to attend.” Merlin stood, lifting the tome with a whispered word and a wave of his hand. The large book hovered and dropped on top of another pile in the corner. Arthur tried not the flinch as he saw the gold in Merlin’s eyes.

“You? A meeting?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, believe it or not.” Merlin said with a small laugh. “You will have to stay here for the time being. We can’t have you wandering the citadel.” Merlin tugged on his robes, dusting them off and straightening them over his legs properly. Arthur could not help but admire the finely made clothing. The style suited Merlin. “Don’t leave the workshop and if someone knocks, do not let them in. Last thing I need is someone thinking you are a mimic or an assassin like I did.”

Arthur did not like to be bossed around, especially from his manservant, but before he could protest Merlin walked out the door.

Arthur huffed with annoyance and slumped back into his chair. It took him less than a minute to make a decision. He looked around the room for a cloak, and when he did not find one, he went into Merlin’s room. He coughed at the dust- Merlin really did need to learn to clean- and found an old cloak that was turning grey at the edges. He slipped it on, hoping it would disguise him enough as he rushed through the corridors.

It did not take long to find Merlin, since there were only so many places to meet in the citadel. Arthur followed the man in the black robes and just as he entered the Great Hall, Arthur turned away and into a small servants’ corridor where he climbed the stairs to a secluded balcony.

As he looked down, his breath was taken away. There was a round table at the center of the Great Hall. It was not the one Arthur had seen in the abandoned castle before retaking Camelot, but a large wooden one which held over twenty knights and advisors. In the center was the Pendragon crest. For a moment he forgot about the dread that had been seeping into his bones the more he learned about this alien-Camelot, and instead was overwhelmed with his shining dream right in front of his eyes.

Arthur looked around the table slowly, counting the faces he knew. He recognized a few of Uther’s young advisors, who now looked like the oldest at the table. The most noteworthy were his trusted knights: Leon, Eylan, Percival, Gwaine, and Lancelot. There were also many knights he did not recognize but he supposed he would meet them in time. At the farthest end of the table was Guinevere, dressed in a long purple gown that suited her well. She did not wear a crown, which surprised him, but he supposed she would not always wear it. Merlin, who had just entered the Hall, sat next to her leaving only one spot left.

“Sorry for the delay, I was supposed to speak with my _esteemed advisor_ before the meeting today, but he skived on his King.”

There was a ripple of laughter as a man with a flowing red cape strode into the room. There was no crown on his blond hair, nor did his garb differ from the other knights, but Arthur knew that this was himself. The King of Camelot. From afar Arthur could not see the lines on the King’s face or the pinch in his brow which distinguished his age, but he could see the way his shoulders were pulled back with confidence.  He could see his stance was loose, as if running a kingdom was not as terrifying as Arthur had always imagined. He supposed after eleven years of rule, one would become accustomed to it.

Everyone at the table rose to their feet as the King stood in front of his chair. Arthur could not help but notice that Merlin was at the King’s right hand.

“All present? Perfect. This meeting of the round table is convened.” The King took his seat, followed by the rest of the table.

The King orchestrated the meeting with the ease of someone who had done it many times. “First order of business: Head Knight?”

Leon rose from his seat, going over long lists of crop reports and patrol accounts. Nothing seemed amiss. This, at least, was something Arthur had been doing since his first years as Prince. Leon’s report lasted a long while and Arthur had to quietly shift on his perch to keep his legs from falling asleep.

“Thank you, Sir Leon.” The King said, “Lady of the Household? Anything to report?”

Guinevere spoke up, “All things for the Spring Feast are in order, my lord. I have already received letters from Their Majesties, Queen Elena, Queen Mithian, and his highness, Prince Gareth announcing their acceptances.”

“We look forward to seeing them. Thank you, Gwen.”

Arthur was surprised he had called her by her nickname. To say the least, her brief speech left Arthur bereft. If any part of this disastrous situation turned out to be good, he had hoped it would be with Guinevere. Perhaps he would spy more of his relationship with her as the meeting continued.

They moved on next to other orders of business, laws and court matters that would be dealt with in the following week.

“Now onto my least favorite advisor-”

“Oi!” Merlin yelped, which produced a round of hardly-repressed giggles.

“Your Lordship, Court Sorcerer, Merlin of Ealdor, do you have anything to share?”

In a split second, Arthur processed that not only had his future-self lifted the ban on magic, but he had also reintroduced the Court Sorcerer position. Plus he had given a title to _Merlin_ , no less.

“You get horrifyingly formal when you are cross with me.” Merlin huffed.

“You were supposed to meet me in my chambers an hour ago, your lordship.”

“I was busy, your majesty.”

“Oh?” The King smiled, “Then you would not mind sharing what distracted you?”

“Well, it is your fault actually.” Merlin smiled, “In a way.”

Up on the balcony, Prince Arthur had to control his irritated grumble. He could not believe that as King, Arthur would let Merlin get away with such raucous behavior!

“ _Really_ ,” The King deadpanned.

“Yes.” Merlin said, “I came across a magical anomaly which you caused over twelve years ago.”

“Me?” The King asked incredulously. “What did I do?”

“I’m afraid I cannot say. It might affect the anomaly.”

Although Arthur was far away from the people down below, he could clearly read the King’s expression which said: ‘Oh, we will be having _words_ as soon as this meeting is over.’ He was familiar with the expression, although he usually could not see it on himself.

“Then is there anything else, Merlin?” Arthur asked with a huff in his voice.

“I have recently spoken to the Druids who have reminded me that with the coming of spring there will be a celebration festival. They have extended an invitation to your majesty, myself, and a few select guests. As you know they are not equipped to host several courtiers.” Merlin said, for once, sounding oddly diplomatic. “Shall I assume you will accept?”

“Of course. Extend my gracious acceptance. We shall go, and I believe Guinevere and Lancelot would not mind a holiday to the Druid villages?”

Guinevere smiled, “We would not mind at all, your majesty. As long as Kay may join.”

“It is exactly why I suggested it. He should get to know the Druids as soon as possible.” The King said with a final note. “It is settled then. Thank you, Merlin. Anything else from the council?” Arthur looked to his advisors who shook their heads. “Then this meeting is adjourned, you are free to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

They all rose to their feet, the sound of voices chatting and chairs scrapping filled the Great Hall.

“Not you, Merlin.”

Arthur had to reign in a laugh to see the way Merlin grimaced.

As the door to the Great Hall shut behind the last person with an echoing thud, King and Court Sorcerer were left alone with only one spying eye high above them.

“Care to explain? I was expecting you.” The King said.

“I really did get caught up.” Merlin promised, “There was a bit of an incident. Which is still an incident, actually. I really must be getting back to it.”

“It must not be that catastrophic if you can make the meeting.” King Arthur said. “Or that you cannot tell me. You promised that you would no longer hide your burdens from me.”

“This truly is something I should fix on my own.”

“Merlin.” The King reached out and touched the Court Sorcerer’s arm tenderly.

Merlin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you remember the Caves of Enrepsid? When that rock fall separated us?”

“Yes? Briefly. I had banged my head fairly hard. It’s blurry.” The King said, “Why?”

“I knew something more had happened. We seemed to escape from the Caves so easily. I knew it would come back to bite us.”

“Spit it out, you’re worrying me.”

“I think you- or perhaps your soul, or maybe your mind, I don’t know, but either way- _you_ managed to pass through time until you appeared in the future. As in, _now_.”

“Now?” Arthur asked, sounding confused. “What do you mean?”

“Let me put it this way: I was in the King’s chambers and _Prince_ Arthur showed up asking why I was in his _father’s_ chambers.”

“Oh, gods above.  I don’t remember any of that!” King Arthur said, “Is he- Am _I_ still here?”

“Yes, have a look for yourself.”

Then Merlin pointed directly at Arthur’s perch above the Great Hall.

“ _Bugger_ ” The Prince said under his breath.

“Did you think I would not know your tricks, Arthur?” Merlin called up to the rafters of the Great Hall. “I know you better than you know yourself. Get down here.”

Prince Arthur cursed Merlin as he made his way down the stairs and into the Great Hall. When he entered, Merlin and the King were whispering fervently.

“No of course not- Don’t say anything to him-”

“Has he seen-” King Arthur cut himself off when the prince entered the room. It felt oddly like a child entering a room when their parents were speaking about them.

“Gods. It is me.” The King said, stepping in front of the prince to examine him. “This is strange.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Prince Arthur said, making his older-self laugh. Up close he could see the age around his eyes and the way his smile left lines along his cheeks. The image of his mother conjured by Morgause suddenly popped into his mind, before he hurriedly pushed it away.

Turning to Merlin, the King asked, “Have you found a solution yet?”

“I have an inkling.” The Court Sorcerer replied. “I will need a day to go through my library to make certain. Then perhaps another to gather ingredients if a potion is needed.”

“Great.” King Arthur huffed, “And the consequences?”

“I’m not certain. If you said you do not remember anything, then maybe it will all fade away like a dream. But I would not risk it. We both know the consequences of dabbling in the future.”

The King nodded with a frown, and Prince Arthur was left in the dark.

Prince Arthur cleared his throat, looking to Merlin. “You knew I was at the balcony?”

“I am sworn to protect the King. I know where everyone is in a room, especially one as vulnerable as the Great Hall.” Merlin said, sounding far more like a knight than an advisor.

King Arthur rolled his eyes. “You act paranoid.”

“You act reckless. Apparently you have already forgotten the Sarrum’s attack.” Merlin said with a snap in his tone. Then he turned to the Prince before the King could form a retort. “We need to get you back to my workshop. You may not remember this, but if I cannot get you back safely there will be no future.” With his hands on the prince’s shoulders, Merlin bustled Arthur along, which he was not happy about.

“Oi!” Prince Arthur pushing Merlin’s hands off. “Stop that! You turned into more of a fishwife than I expected.”

The King was obviously holding back a laugh.

“Shut up.” Merlin said to his King. “I am not.”

“You do tend to worry.” King Arthur said, “You cast enchantments on my armor every week. It is a bit over-precautious.”

“You have never had to fix a dented pauldron. It is for your manservant’s benefit. Besides it takes me less time to cast an enchantment than it takes for you to don your hauberk.”

Prince Arthur stared at the pair, thinking that it was like looking upon strangers. “How can you speak of _enchantments_ so casually?”

King Arthur frowned as he looked at Arthur. The Court Sorcerer seemed to read something on the King’s face, something that even Arthur could not see. Merlin softly whispered to the King, “Let an old argument lie. It’s behind us, Arthur.”

“It’s not for him.” King Arthur pointed out.

The Prince crossed his arms over his chest. “I am still here you know.”

“Let me speak with him.” The King said to Merlin, still not looking at Arthur.

Merlin did not answer for a while, looking at Arthur with an intense gaze. Then he held up his hands, “Alright, but only for a moment. Then we need to get back to my workshop.”

“Of course” The King bowed his head slightly, “We shall meet you there shortly.”

Merlin nodded and turned on his heel. As he left, the doors of the Great Hall thudded, leaving the younger and older pair in silence.

“Sit.” The King said, gesturing to one of the chairs at the round table before taking his own seat.

With a reverent step forward, Arthur pulled out Merlin’s seat, on the right hand of the King, and sat in it. As the Prince looked over the vast and great table, he wondered how something so familiar could feel like a foreign kingdom.

“I cannot even imagine how you must feel, seeing all of this.” The King said.

“I feel like I stepped into a foreign land.” Arthur admitted. “I’m still not sure how I feel about it.”

“Much has changed.” The King said, “I’m starting to realize just how much.”

Merlin had said the same thing, and perhaps he was right. If he had been asked just the day before what his life would look like a decade into his reign, he would not have even begun to describe what he had seen today.

“You are not married to Guinevere, are you?”

The King cracked a small smile. “No. That honor would belong to Sir Lancelot.”

Arthur had known that Guinevere had once been in love with Lancelot. Arthur had thought that he and Guinevere had a mutual understanding. But with Lancelot’s return to Camelot, it was hard to deny that his feelings for her had not faded. Now Arthur wondered if her love for Lancelot had faded too.

“But I had thought we would marry.” Arthur’s stomach dropped to the floor and his heart felt like it had crumbled right in his chest. “Am I wrong about us?”

“No, not wrong. But in the midst of young love everything looks different.” The King looked off into the distance, as if he were remembering rather than seeing.

“If I am not married, how am I to have an heir? Are you betrothed?”

The King smiled again, “Careful. You sound like father.”

Arthur grumbled. “Well, he has a point every once and a while.”

“Yes I suppose he did.” The King said. “But do not worry. You have an heir. Guinevere and Lancelot’s son has already been appointed my heir. Unofficially, of course. He is only four at the moment.”

“I had hoped to be married.” Arthur said, wondering what his future brought him.

“Your life is not without love.” The King said. “You will sacrifice much, but never think your heart was one of them.”

“I am not sure I can believe you.” Arthur admitted.

“There is a price for everything.” The King said. His words held more weight than the Prince could begin to fathom. “There is a balance to everything. To take and to receive.” Putting a gloved hand to the table, the King sighed, “This table cost much more than a few pieces of gold. It cost Camelot years of war and sorrow. But we gained so much.”

Arthur decided that the King’s age was not apparent in his face like it was in Merlin’s. No, his age was in the way he spoke. His words were chosen carefully and his manners were slow and methodical. For the Prince, it was like looking in a warped mirror.

“War.” Arthur repeated. “When? For how long?”

The King sighed. “Merlin would not like me revealing too much to you.”

“No, I suppose not. But I tend not to listen to Merlin.”

The King laughed softly. “That is true. But I don’t think it wise to know the future either.  Merlin is right on that account.”

Arthur looked down, studying the grains of wood in the table and wondering just how much more sorrow he would have to go through to see this table in his future.

“Can you at least tell me what will happen to Morgana?” Arthur’s voice was barely loud enough to hear. Ever since he saw his half-sister take the throne of Camelot, Arthur could not help but wonder how this would all work out in the end.

The King didn’t answer for a long moment.

“She died in the war.”

“Will I be the one to kill her?” Arthur asked the question that had been gnawing at him for months.

“No.” The King’s lips were thin, turned down in sorrow. Arthur could tell that he was holding back more information, perhaps who had killed her in the end, but he continued before Arthur could ask.

“Fear. Power. Grief.” The King said softly. “It had all turned Morgana mad. I know you blame sorcery now, but I assure you that I would not have lifted the ban if I thought magic was responsible in any way for that war. Camelot had lost enough already.”

“How can you say that?” Arthur heard his voice waver, sorrow filling his heart. “How could you allow Merlin to learn sorcery? _Merlin_ , of all people.”

The King shook his head. “I did not allow Merlin to do anything. Magic is as natural as lakes and streams, and banning it would be like banning all the people with blue eyes or people naturally skilled with a sword. Merlin already had magic in his veins, far before he ever arrived in Camelot.”

Arthur had known that of the few people who chose to learn sorcery, very few actually had the natural talent for it. But he had always considered it something one chose, not something one was born with.

“You mean that no matter what I do, Merlin will always turn to sorcery?” Arthur gut knotted.

The King smiled, his eyes filled with mirth, which confused Arthur. “If you think Merlin will ever listen to you, then that is your biggest mistake.”

Without preamble, the King stood.

“Come. We should go to Merlin’s workshop before too long.”

The King started for the door, and Arthur was left with little else to do except to follow.

***

When they arrived at the workshop, Merlin immediately started talking. Arthur barely understood a word of it, since most of it was either about magic or quite literally in another language. All Arthur was able to understand was that there was a potion of some kind and that somehow Arthur’s soul was involved. The King, at least, seemed to know what the Court Sorcerer was explaining.

“Merlin, stop chattering, you sound like a squirrel.” The King said, making Arthur snort. Merlin glared.

“Just tell me what you need for this potion? Do I need to send for someone?”

“Just the petals of the Mortaeus flower.”

“What!” Both Arthurs exclaimed at the same time.

“Ha. I’m only kidding. Making sure you were paying attention.” Merlin’s eyes crinkled, and for a second Arthur could see his own manservant in him.

“You are rarely as funny as you think you are.” The King crossed his arms.

“Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” Merlin waved his hands. “And it’s ‘no’ by the way. I have all my ingredients but it will take me until the morning to brew because I need to soak the yarrow for at least half a day.”

With that said, there was little else for them to do. Merlin began to prepare the potion, talking to himself all the while. The King ordered a passing servant to fetch dinner for two, and then excused himself.

“I have a few more things to attend to before I retire for the evening.” The King said. “Hopefully this is all fixed by the morning. I think we will all be grateful.”

Arthur couldn’t help but agree.

Merlin snorted. “This is hardly the worst thing to happen to us.”

“No, but it is certainly the strangest.” The King said, giving only a fleeting look to Arthur before he made his leave.

***

After the King left, Merlin and Arthur ate their dinners in relative silence. They both had much on their minds, and Arthur was still trying to process much of what he had seen. When they finished dinner, Merlin said that he would take the empty dishes to the kitchen on his way out.

“Are you not staying?” Arthur asked.

“No, you may sleep in my old room.” Merlin said. “It might be a bit dusty but it should work for the night.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“I have my own chambers now.” Merlin answered. “I’m no longer your manservant, remember?”

“Yes, you are Court Sorcerer.” Arthur said, the title sounding odd on his tongue, now that he said it out loud.

Merlin looked like he wanted to speak, but had decided better of it. He whispered to himself, but Arthur did not think that Merlin had intended for him to hear. “He will hear you apologize enough in the future.”

“I will come to wake you in the morning. Just like old times. Or perhaps, only old for me.” Merlin commented, a smile on his face though it looked a little forced.

Dishes in hand Merlin opened the workshop door, pausing in the doorway. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

Then he left. Arthur sighed, speaking to the air. “Goodnight, Merlin.”

***

In Merlin’s small bed, Arthur had trouble dozing off. He told himself it was the dust and the lumpy cot, but he knew better. There were questions flying about his mind, and answers to questions he thought would always remain a mystery. Another hour passed, and when Arthur still could not muster any sleep, he tossed the blankets off himself and found the same cloak he had used before.

There was a part of Arthur, which sounded a lot of Merlin, telling him that he should stay in bed and wait until morning. But there was a stronger part of Arthur which was anxious and vulnerable, desperate to know more of his future reign. He had only glanced at his own time of peace, and now he wondered what had he not seen. Was the kingdom prosperous? Despite what Merlin and his future-self had said, was this a time of peace? Was he happy, or had too much been sacrificed? He even wondered if his daily routine was the same or had that even changed over the years?

It felt odd sneaking around his own home, especially as he thought of ways to spy into the King’s chambers. Luckily, he had discovered all the nooks and crannies of the citadel before he was even a squire, and he had spied on his father’s chambers more than once. Quickly he ducked behind a servant’s hall and found the spot at the top of the hall where an air vent gave him a view of the room. Through the grate he could see the table right in front of him, the window alcove to his right, and part of the bed in the back.

His older-self was at that alcove, sitting with his head leaning against the stone. Arthur had an odd sense of muscle-memory as he saw the position that he often took in his own rooms. Looking out across the courtyard and the lower town had always grounded him after a long day.

He watched for a long time in complete silence. It was odd to wait for something to happen. Perhaps this was all he would see.

“You are pensive tonight.”

Arthur’s head snapped up as he heard Merlin’s voice. He looked around, unable to find the man. The King and Court Sorcerer must have been discussing the situation at hand and Merlin had yet to leave.

“Seeing my younger self…It reminded me of how different I am.” His older-self commented with his eyes still locked somewhere outside the window. “I could barely see myself in him.”

“I know. I had forgotten what it was like back then until I saw him in front of me.” Merlin finally revealed himself from the other side of the room. He no longer wore his robes, but something more akin to what Arthur envisioned him usually wearing: a loose shirt and trousers. “I worry we have already changed too much by speaking with him, but you say that you do not remember anything. Perhaps your younger-self will not either.”

Arthur internally grumbled at that. He hated to think any of these memories, as ambiguous as he felt about them, would be lost.

His older-self was silent.

“You do not remember anything, _do you_?” Merlin asked. The Prince winced because he knew that tone. It was the tone that often triggered Arthur to tell Merlin to shut up because he was getting too close to the truth.

King Arthur looked up at Merlin with a little smile.

“ _Arthur_!” Merlin chastised.

“It was just a split second!” King Arthur promised. “When you found me in the Caves of Enrepsid. It was like that moment when you wake in the midst of a dream and it all seems so real, even in waking.”

“What did you remember?” Merlin asked seriously, “Arthur this could change everything-”

“I passed it off as a dream.” King Arthur said, and the Prince was mortified to watch himself blush. King Arthur coughed, “Do you remember what happened that day in the Caves?”

Merlin rubbed his face as he tried to remember what had been over twelve years ago for him. For the prince, it was still in the future.

“Didn’t you…? Oh how could I have forgotten!” Merlin laughed suddenly.

King Arthur rolled his eyes, “Shut up. I thought I was dreaming.”

Merlin snorted, “You avoided me for days afterward. I remember because I skived on duties for a week. It was glorious.”

“Thank you for your concern, Merlin. I had had my soul hurdled from one time to another. But I would not fret too much.” King Arthur mocked.

Merlin frowned, not speaking.

It was hard to equate this Merlin with the one back in his own time. To the prince, Merlin was gawky, loud, and idiotic. Although this older Merlin was just as witty and friendly as his younger self, he was more reserved. He even moved differently. Not over boisterous and clumsy as before but sure-footed and shoulders pulled back with strength. It was hard to contrast with the stick-thin boy who could barely hold a sword properly.

“ _Merlin_ ” King Arthur’s voice was laced with worry. “Come here.”

Arthur watched with confusion as his older-self held out a hand to Merlin. What was he trying to do?

Merlin did not move. Instead he turned to the King and said, “There is so much that could go wrong. So many small incidences that could change everything.”

King Arthur huffed. “Your King gave you an order, your lordship.”

This seemed to brighten Merlin’s expression, the worry easing slightly. “You are as domineering as you ever were, _sire_.”

Now, Merlin moved forward and sat opposite Arthur in the little alcove. Although he faced away, Arthur could still see most of Merlin as he sat by the King. They were far closer than Arthur would have allowed himself in his own time. He wondered why his older-self did not tell Merlin to move back with a playful jab.

His older-self raised his hand and cupped Merlin’s jaw so that his thumb ran over the scar on his cheekbone. Arthur felt his stomach jump into his throat, but he could not take his eyes away.

“Whatever happens, Merlin. _This_. This will always be.” King Arthur said with emphasis on the word. _This_ was the King’s hand caressing Merlin’s face. _This_ was the way the King looked into Merlin’s eyes. _This_ was a meaning that the Prince could barely begin to understand.

Merlin sighed, “What if something goes wrong?”

King Arthur smiled. “Look at it this way, we have already lived it. If something goes wrong it will not affect us.”

Merlin shook his head with a small laugh. He raised his hand to the King’s wrist, gently holding onto it in a way that made Arthur want to crawl into himself so he could deny it all. But it also made him want to crawl through the grate and see as much as he could with wide astonished eyes.

Merlin said, “I hate to think there is a version of time where we do not have each other. Or that there is a version of time where I have lost you.”

King Arthur leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Merlin’s cheek and then moved to the other side of his face to press a matching kiss at the corner of his eye. “Darling. You cannot fret on other futures. You promised me you would not go back to the Crystal Caves.”

“I haven’t, I swear.” Merlin said earnestly. “But I cannot help but think of the things I have seen in the crystals.”

“I know. But I do not want you worrying yourself so. I am alive and here with you. I promise it is for the foreseeable future.” The King gave a charming smile, one that was a little ostentatious but it seemed to make Merlin laugh.

Merlin leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the King’s lips. The King closed his eyes, appearing to sigh into Merlin. As they held onto each other, through the grate the Prince felt like the ground had gone lopsided. He was so shocked that it was like he could not feel his own body as he watched the pair linger in a lover’s embrace.

After a long moment, they pulled away and linked their hands together.

“Come here” The King pulled Merlin by his hand until Merlin was lying against the King’s chest, their hands intertwined in Merlin’s lap.

The prince was in a daze. Even if the pair had been talking, he would have been unable to hear as his ears rung. He stared at the hands casually locked together. There could be no doubt what he had just witnessed.  

But the kisses themselves were not what shocked the prince. It was the simplicity in the exchange that made his heart pound in his chest. The scene before him had not been the enraptured actions of unattached bedmates. Nor had it been the actions of new and tentative lovers. A simple kiss was all that was needed to show affection, as if everything had already been said. It was a solid, constant, and everlasting fire. It was an aching kind of intimacy that terrified Arthur.

“We better get some sleep. We are not as young as we used to be, you know.”

The words brought Arthur’s focus back to the pair in the room.

“I’m painfully aware, thank you Merlin.” King Arthur said as he lifted himself from the alcove, rolling his shoulders and cracking a few bones in his back.

They moved to the other side of the room. His older-self removed his shirt and then walked to the left side of the bed where the Prince couldn’t see. From this angle Merlin was behind the wall on the right side. Arthur heard some more rustling. The candle was blown out. Arthur’s heart raced as he listened to the silence in the pitch black room.

The bed creaked. Blankets moved quietly. More silence. He could barely hear but the silence was enough. If nothing else that night had been damning, then the intimacy of lying in a bed without even the act of sex beforehand was telling.

Arthur closed the grate quietly and slipped out of the hall.

***

To say the least, Arthur had not slept much that night. He tossed and turned, wondering if he wanted to remember any of this after all.

As promised, Merlin woke him in the morning, a smile on his face. “Sleep well?”

“Not really.” Arthur answered honestly, rousing from the small cot.

“Understandable, I suppose.” Merlin said, “Come down, I have some porridge for you and then we can start the ritual.”

As Arthur ate, Merlin worked on the potion, occasionally talking to himself as he chopped sprigs and stirred boiling pots. Twice he whispered a word of magic over part of the ingredients. Arthur’s stomach never seemed to stop clenching every time he saw the gold in Merlin’s eyes. Worst of all, the gold in Merlin’s eyes made Arthur think of what he had seen the night before.

“Done” Merlin announced a little more than half an hour later. He poured the concoction into a vial and showed the purple liquid to Arthur. “Now for the ritual.”

Arthur cleared his throat, “Care to elaborate? It is my soul we’re talking about.”

Merlin nodded, pushing a book which was opened on the table toward him. He pointed down to the page, written in the Old Religion and painted with several plants Arthur assumed to be ingredients for the potion. “This is one of the books I collected after the ban was lifted.  According to this section, the Caves of Enrepsid are known for their abundant crystals. Since sorcerers often infuse crystals with magic, it became a place for sorcerers to practice their enchantments. Meaning that over the years, the Caves were flooded with conflicting spells and curses alike. I think some of the magic that forced you here was either left behind or caused by a mixture of spells.”

“But you are certain you can send me back, correct?” Arthur asked.

“We will need to be in the exact place in which you woke under the citadel, but that should be the most difficult part.” Merlin assured him.

“You are certain you are capable of performing this spell?”

Merlin looked amused that Arthur even doubted him, “There are few spells I cannot perform.”

His confidence silenced Arthur on the matter. Instead he nodded and then  guided Merlin down to the place where he had entered the citadel only the day before. It felt like an eternity.

As they walked down the steps, Merlin lit a torch without even a word. Arthur did not flinch this time, making him wonder if he had grown accustomed to the magic. He did not think it would matter, if he were to lose the memories anyway.

They made it all the way to the bottom of the cave, until they came to the small alcove where he had awoken the day before. He had not been able to see anything when he had been here yesterday, but now with Merlin’s torch he could see that there were a few small crystals in the crevice of the wall.

Merlin reached out. His eyes flashed gold as soon as his skin touched the crystals.

“Here.” Merlin said as he squatted down on the cave floor. He began to write symbols in the dust, referring to a bit of parchment he had in hand. After a long moment of watching him silently, Merlin handed Arthur the potion. “Do not drink that until I tell you to. Lie down between the spells.”

Arthur stepped over a line of writing, careful not to smudge it as he lay down on the cave floor.

“Ready?” Merlin asked.

“Wait” Arthur reached out, holding onto Merlin’s wrist. The brief skin to skin contact made Arthur’s heart race, even as he formed the question in his mind. “Before we begin, I must ask.”

Merlin raised a brow, “What is it?”

“He told me that my life was not without love.” Arthur said, referring to his older-self. “I thought he had meant to console me after learning Guinevere was married to Lancelot, but that was not the case, was it? He meant you.”

Merlin’s mouth opened without words for a moment before he stuttered, “How did you find out?”

Arthur did not answer the question, instead he said, “I do not know what it is that you have with him and I cannot begin to wrap my mind around it. When did it all change?”

Merlin looked away. “A lot has happened in twelve years.”

Arthur laughed, “An understatement, indeed.  You have not yet answered my question.”

“Oh, Arthur.” Merlin gave a sad smile, his eyes crinkled at the sides. “The Merlin that you return to?  He is already madly in love with you.”

Arthur reeled, “What?”

“It crept up on me over the years, you know. But I think it was inevitable. I only knew after your speech at the round table before we retook Camelot. That was when I realized I was already deeply in love.”

Arthur frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Merlin’s smile was bittersweet. “You were going to be King and Gwen was to be your Queen. I was not about to ruin that for you just because I loved you. I will always want you happy before myself.”

Arthur’s voice was thin, “What happened?”

“She finds her true love. And you find yours. Not that I mean to brag, but I am fairly perfect for you.” He smiled widely and Arthur could see this. He could see how Merlin had become a constant in his life. How he already loved Merlin as a loyal friend, and he could love Merlin in another way, if given the chance. Perhaps now he no longer feared that this would be his future.

“Anything else?” Merlin asked, and when Arthur shook his head, he nodded. “Alright. Time to drink the potion.”

Arthur popped the cork out of the vial and downed the purple liquid in one go.

“I will see you in a little while.” Merlin said softly.

“Looking forward to it.”

Arthur laid down on the ground, looking up at Merlin’s older face one last time before he closed his eyes.

Then he slept.

***

“Arthur!”

Merlin shouted as he scrambled through the pile of debris. He was praying that Arthur was uninjured.

“Arthur!”

He still could not see a foot in front of his face, which was making his search much harder. Crossing his fingers for luck, Merlin summoned the torch he had dropped when the cave had collapsed and lit it with a spell. When the winds did not douse the flame, Merlin let out a sigh of relief.

“Arthur!” Merlin called out again, this time using the torch to light his way.

He heard some coughing and his heart leapt into his throat. He silently thanked the gods and rushed forward, stumbling as he tripped on some of the fallen rocks. In the dull light of the torch, he saw a glimpse of metal and red. Pushing more rocks out of the way, Merlin finally found Arthur.

Kneeling next to Arthur, Merlin leaned in to feel Arthur’s breath against his palm. Merlin tilted Arthur’s head, looking for injuries. “Come on, prat. I would prefer you alive and well.” Merlin muttered to himself. Tenderly, he touched Arthur’s cheek, “Wake up, lazy daisy.”

Arthur stirred, making a noise akin to the one he usually made upon waking in the mornings.

When Arthur opened his eyes, his hand immediately went to Merlin’s face. Merlin froze as Arthur’s fingers lightly grazed his skin. His eyes were unfocused, still not awake.

“Darling” Arthur whispered with his brows pinched as if in contemplation. “I called you darling.” His voice was steady, and he did not sound nearly dazed enough for Merlin to think Arthur was hallucinating due to hitting his head.

Merlin was unable to respond, staring at Arthur with what must have been a mad expression.

It must have woken Arthur, because suddenly his eyes widened and he shouted, “Merlin!”

“Yes? Who else?” Merlin answered, sincerely wishing Arthur had meant to call him darling, although he doubted Arthur would ever do such a thing.

Arthur shook his head, as if shaking away a dream. “No one.” Realizing he was still touching Merlin’s face, Arthur snatched his hand away.

“What were you dreaming about?” Merlin asked, raising a brow.

“Nothing” Arthur snapped.

“Really? Because it sounded like you were saying darling.” Merlin smiled, hoping he could tease Arthur with this for as long as possible.

“I did no such thing!” Arthur said, standing up abruptly, “We don’t have time for this. Come on let’s go.” Arthur snatched the torch out of Merlin’s hand, and then began to climb out of the debris, headed toward the other tunnel.

“Told you we should have gone down that way” Merlin muttered to himself.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a writer-indulgent fic because I love talking about the many things that changed from s1 to s5. (No one on this Earth will ever be able to stop me talking about Merlin’s progression of Adorable Sassy Kitten to ‘Oh No He’s Hot’). Plus if 5x13 had ended with Alive!Arthur and a Golden Age, the shift would have been even more apparent. Anyways, I rarely write canon and when I do, it’s always character studies or my need to give descriptive headcanons. Hope you enjoyed the weird ride.


End file.
